Angels Dance to Demons Music
by Quill Of The Pheonix
Summary: Castiel hates having his life lived for him. When he starts to take matters into his own hands he is not prepared for the boy who quickly runs into his life.
1. Chapter 1

The acoustics were not the best, Dean decided. It was the low ceiling and the lack of an entire wall that did it. Through the years, the garage has been the birthplace for the majority of the world's musical talents, even the Beetles had to start out somewhere, though Dean thought inwardly that even Ringo in his younger years had had better sense than to nurture his musical genius in a small, damp excuse for a garage. But it was adequate for their band, if they could even call themselves that.

The four of them were not the best but they could carry a tune and Crowley was a demon on the guitar. Dean was reduced to bass while Sam expressed his skills on the keyboard quite excellently (though Dean wouldn't say it in earshot of his little brother). Ash, co-founder of their band and soul possessor of a garage that could successfully hold the four of them and a battered drum-kit with enough legroom so that the sardine-feel was marginally lessened, was the drummer. He was brilliant when he actually put his mind to it, but that rarely happens as he almost always looks and acts stoned.

Right now though, they weren't playing but were trying to figure out a name for their band. Apparently Ash's suggestion of 'The Band of Awesomely Epic Dudes' didn't quite have the right feel to it.

"Oh, how about 'Hell's Angels'?" Sam volunteered.

"Overdone," said Dean with a yawn. They had been at it for almost an hour and Dean was getting bored.

"Hey guys, what about-" Ash started.

"No," said Crowley, who was sitting the wrong way on a dilapidated office chair, plucking dust off his black jeans.

"But you haven't eve-"

"No." Ash huffed out an indignant breath and collapsed back onto his back where he was lying on a scruffy mattress that was on top of what looked like everything else in the garage.

It was then that Ash's little sister Jo entered the garage, kicking a few pieces of car out of the way of the door that lead into the house. "Hey guys," she greeted amiably having put up with their noise for a few months now. "How's it goin'? Found a name for your sucky group yet?" The four were used to her poking her head in and throwing out the occasional insult so they didn't mind her.

"Nope, it's slow goin' at the moment," said Sam, shifting his position on the cardboard box and stretching his back until it gave a satisfying pop.

"Well, it's not the end of the world," Jo said encouragingly, "though sometimes I think it is when you start playing. God, the number of times I think my ear drums have burst because of you guys, I can't even-"

Dean cut her off; he'd had a brain wave (which was even rarer than Ash's sobriety). "I've got it," he announced, "the name of the band. We can be called 'The Apocalypse'." Dean glanced around and saw four sets of eyes fixated on him as he continued to press his point. "There's four of us right? So we can be the four horsemen of 'The Apocalypse'," he said, raising his fingers at the inverted commas. Dean waited to hear the verdict as the others took a moment to process this idea. It was Sam who spoke first.

"That's actually quite clever if you think about it."

"Not bad Winchester." Crowley said approvingly.

Dean turned to Ash. "Um, I don't get it," he mumbled. Life's too short, thought Dean.

"So, are we agreed?" Dean asked the garage at large and was replied with nods and a grunt of approval from the mattress.

"Who are you guys gonna be then?" asked Jo who was now leaning against a long since dead lawn mower who had yet to be put out of its misery. She received four puzzled faces and she let out a sigh. "You're the horsemen, so who's who? War, Death and the rest of it?"

"Well Ash is definitely Pollution, or whatever he's called," said Dean, gesturing to the teen in question who was still lying on his pile of garbage.

"I think its Pestilence," corrected Sam, "but Pollution fits him better I guess." They were answered by a grunted 'whut?' from the mattress but just ignored him.

"Dean is War, no question about it," said Jo. Dean was about to protest but Jo gave him a look that shut him up. "Remember that fight you got into with Alistair the other week? _And_ the one with Michael the week before that. _And_ the one with Raphael the week before that, or was it the same week? I can't remember, but there was the one with Zachariah and-"

"Yes! Alright we get the picture," said Dean a tad abruptly. It wasn't Dean's fault, really it wasn't. Either they pissed him off or he pissed them off or they insulted him or Sammy, if they did that then it wasn't Dean's fault that they deserved a fist to the face. "Those sons of bitches had it coming anyway," he mumbled in his defence.

"That means I'm Death then," Crowley said as if he was stating a fact rather than asking his fellow horsepersons. Sam was about to complain that he wanted to be Death but the glare Crowley sent him was worthy of his newly appointed title. "And little Sammy can be Famine. Rather fitting I think, what with all that healthy food he insists on eating every day."

"Yeah, Sammy, Death isn't well known for his puppy-eyes either. You'd be useless as Death, you'd want to save every sap that bites the dust instead of sending him downstairs," Dean reasoned. Sam replied with a bitch face that clearly said thanks-for-nothing-jerk-who-I-unfortunatly-have-to-call-my-sorry-excuse-for-a-brother.

The small silence was torn apart by a piercing scream from inside the house and a very pissed voice yelling so loudly that the windows looked like they were going to give in, "ASH! GET YOUR SORRY ASS UP HERE RIGHT NOW!"

"Oh shit." Ash jumped when he heard that he was the subject of his mother's wrath and fell face first onto the garage floor. He scrambled to his feet and floundered for a moment glancing between the door to the house (and certain death) and the open garage door, possibly weighing his options of how successful he would be if he legged it and faced the music when the music wasn't so pissed off.

"ASH! IF YOU'RE NOT HERE IN THE NEXT 10 SECONDS I'M GONNA DRAG YOU UP HERE, YOU HEAR ME?" Two things in the world frightened Dean Winchester to his very core: flying and Ellen on a bad day, especially when Ash had done something monumentally stupid and royally pissed her off.

Crowley gave an exasperated sigh. "What have you done this time?"

"Well, er…" Ash started, edging his way closer to the garage door. "You know those booby-traps in that horror film we saw?"

Dean groaned in contact embarrassment at his friend's utter stupidity. Sam face-palmed and muttered something along the lines of, I knew we shouldn't of let Crowley pick the film and let Ash watch and take notes. Crowley just sighed again and pulled a hand through his raven hair.

"You didn't. Oh you bloody idiot." Ash wasn't listening, he was too busy being dragged to his death by his sister.

"Sorry boys. Gotta cut this short. It would probably be best if you didn't come around tomorrow either, mum sounds as if she could go off for days," said Jo as she struggled to get Ash to let go of the door handle. "Come on you wimp, grow a pair and face your fate like a man. Dead man walking!" she called as she finally managed to get him into the house and shut the door behind them.

There was an unnerving silence that seemed to echo around them. It was broken when Sam stood and started to make his way quickly to the garage door. "I don't know about you, but I'm out of here."

"Right behind you Sammy."

"Ditto."

They didn't run away, hell no! They strategically quickened their pace to avoid the damage to their well being that surely would have been the result of them staying a moment longer than they had to in that house when Ellen was in a full rage. At least that's what they'd say if you asked them.

"Well boys," said Crowley. He always called them 'boys' or 'Winchester' even though he was in the same year as Dean, "not that barely escaping with our lives isn't fun, but I've got to get going. Things to do, people to see, lives to ruin."

"Yeah, see ya later," called Sam.

"Yeah, bye Crowley." Crowley didn't like being called by his first name and no one could blame him. 'Anthony' had all sorts of connotations that didn't bode well for anyone's reputation. Dean found this out the hard way after he called Crowley by his name the first day that they had met when Crowley had just moved over from England a year ago. His nose hurt just thinking about it.

"Hey Dean, I'm gonna head home ok?" Dean hadn't realised that they were automatically heading into town. Must be a subconscious habit or something smart that Sammy usually says, he thought.

"Hmm? Oh, sure thing Sam. I'll be back in a bit." Sam nodded and headed off in the other direction. Dean sighed. He liked hanging out with his friends but sometimes all he needed was an aimless walk (or drive if his dad had been in a good mood and decided to hand over the keys to his beloved Impala to Dean for an afternoon) to just clear his head.

Dean wasn't paying attention to where he was going, he knew his town like the back of his hand, so he obviously had no idea that there was a boy running down the street looking rather flustered as he clutched to his bag and kept glancing over his shoulder. Dean rounded the corner at the same moment the other boy had looked over his shoulder and collided right into Dean with a faint 'oof'.

"Hey! Watch where you're go-" Dean stopped himself. The boy was on the ground franticly trying to regain the spilled contents of his bag and throw them back in. Dean kneeled down and helped collect the boy's books and what looked like a gym kit.

"Hey, I'm sorry." Dean apologised, "I wasn't looking where I was going and you were going quite fast and I just wasn't paying-" Dean stopped himself again but for a completely different reason. The boy was staring intently at him with a tilted head as if to ask why he was still there. Those eyes were the bluest eyes Dean had ever seen. Probably the bluest blue Dean had ever seen too. They were just so intense. Dean realised he was staring and quickly looked away, coughing to hide his embarrassment.

When he looked away though, he saw something peculiar sticking out from under a book. He picked up the object finding it very light, both in weight and colour. The boy's eyes widened as he realised what Dean had found and quickly snatched it away from him, throwing it unceremoniously into his bag. Dean opened his mouth to speak but before he could say a thing the boy picked himself up and took off like a shot around the corner and out of sight.

The first thing Dean thought was, that's ok, I only helped you with your stuff, no need to thank me. His second thought was, who the hell was that guy? Surely he would have noticed a guy with eyes like that wandering around school, although Dean did have tunnel vision when it came to looking out for people and it mostly landed on the chicks. What do you expect from an eighteen year old? Dean's third thought (man he was thinking a lot these days, he really needs a break, poor guy) was why did he have a pair of ballet slippers in his bag?

Dean hauled himself up and rubbed the shoulder that the boy collided into. He didn't even know his name. Before Dean could walk away and forget that this ever happened, he found one of the boy's books lying on the sidewalk with it's pages open showing complicated looking diagrams of the human anatomy. Dean's fourth thought was, God this guy must be a smart-ass if he can understand shit like this. Dean picked up the book and as he did so something occurred to him.

"If you're as big a geek as Sammy," Dean muttered to himself flicking through the pages of the well-used textbook, "I know what will be right… here. Yahtzee!"

On the inside cover of the book, in neat, pencilled handwriting was a name. Castiel Novak.

Castiel hated his life. No, that wasn't exactly true. He did like his life, but it wasn't his. It was a life that his parents had chosen and were making him live, and he hated it. _They_ chose what subjects he was to study for. _They_ chose what clothes he wore. _They _chose to ignore his real passion and talent make him want to become a doctor instead. Castiel didn't want to be a doctor, or a lawyer, or anything his parents wanted him to do. What he wanted to be was a dancer.

His older brother Gabriel, who had a similar dream of becoming a choreographer, had moved out when he turned seventeen because he was sick of being told how to live his life. Sometimes Castiel wished that he had gone with him but he didn't know then what he knew now. It was almost six months after Gabriel left that he told his father what he really wanted to do. That's when he got the lecture about dancing being a worthless and pointless career and that he should try to do something more realistic and that actually paid well.

That was almost two years ago and Castiel was now seventeen himself. He wasn't as confident and rebellious as Gabriel but he was rebellious enough to break his curfew. He would come back from school and go straight to his room to do his homework for an hour or so. After that he would grab his kit and several books and throw them into his bag and left. He would tell his parents that he was meeting up with friends to do a bit of extra studying at their house and they'd let him go with a warning not to drink, smoke, get into any fights and generally have a fun-free time while returning home at six-thirty sharp.

Everyday Castiel would make his way to the gym in town where he would meet up with Gabriel, who had started going to the college, and he would teach his little brother all that he had learned that day. This gave Gabriel the advantage in his classes and also gave Castiel the chance to finally do what he loves with his parents none the wiser. This had been going on for a few weeks now, so it stands to reason that something had to go wrong at one point or another.

"Castiel, darling," called his mother, "would you come here a moment?" Obediently Castiel laid down his pencil and made his way down the stairs. "Your father would like to have a word with you."

Castiel sat down cautiously on the couch as he waited for his father to start speaking. This never ends well, he thought. "Castiel," started his father. Castiel had the same dark hair as his father, but he had his mother's eyes. "As you know, exams are coming up and your mother and I think it best if you were to continue your studies without any distractions. This would mean that you are not allowed to go to your friends houses after school hours." Castiel's eyes widened but he knew better than to interrupt. "We need to make sure that you do your best in these exams; they could change your life for the better my boy."

Castiel nodded dejectedly and was about to take his leave when he had an idea. "Father, may I be allowed to start this new schedule tomorrow? It's just that I have loaned my friends a few of my textbooks, can I spend today retrieving them then spend tomorrow studying from them?" Castiel waited with baited breath as he saw his father turn this information over in his head.

"Alright Castiel, you may. But remember to be back no later than six-thirty, clear?"

"Yes, sir." Castiel had to stop himself from running up the stairs. "Father has gone too far this time," he mumbled as he gathered a few of his books and things in his bag (Castiel didn't posses many material things, only what was deemed necessary by his parents). His meetings and dance sessions with his brother helped him get through the day and he was not going to let his father take that away from him. "This time I'm not coming back." Castiel slung his bag over his shoulder and left without another word.

His mind started to wonder as he made the familiar journey into town. This is a terrible idea, what will mother and father think when they find out? Then Castiel realised something; he didn't care. Gabriel would be more than happy to put him up in his place, he'd drop out of school and get a part-time job and when Gabriel came back from college he'd teach Castiel like he always did and-

Castiel's train of thought was derailed when a hand landed on his shoulder and roughly spun him around. He was greeted with two all too familiar faces. Brilliant.

"Well, look who we have here," sneered the taller of the two.

"Yeah, how's it goin' point-dexter?" The second boy was much fatter than the first and jabbed a podgy finger in Castiel's chest.

"Raphael, Zachariah, I don't have time for-" Castiel started, pulling himself free from Raphael's grasp, he was already late as it is. He really wasn't in the mood for this.

"What's in the bag, momma's-boy?" Zachariah reached for the bag but Castiel took a step back.

"Just books, not that they'd be of any use to you," said Castiel coolly, still edging away.

"Did you just insult me you little freak?" growled Zachariah, taking a menacing step closer to Castiel so that he was now leering over him.

"Just give us your money and I'll tell Zach here to back off," said Raphael calmly.

Castiel couldn't tell them that he really didn't have any money on him. In his haste to leave he'd forgotten all about it. They wouldn't listen anyway and they'd turn his bag inside out for good measure, and he couldn't imagine what they'd do when they found out what he actually had in there. So Castiel did the first thing he could think of.

"Go to Hell!" Castiel yelled, and punched Zachariah square in the face. Zachariah was sent reeling into Raphael, nearly knocking the two of them over in the process. Castiel didn't waste any time in turning on his heel and running as fast as he could down the street.

"Come back here you bastard!" he heard Zachariah yell. Castiel continued running as fast as he could, darting around corners, sprinting across the street, trying his best to loose them. He kept checking over his shoulder to make sure that they weren't following him too closely but it turned out that he'd finally lost them. He was still running and had just turned around in time to collide with someone who had decided to round the corner at the same time. Castiel fell backwards, his bag spilling its contents.

He quickly started to refill his bag and was vaguely aware of the person apologising, but he didn't pay any attention. They would say they were sorry and be on their way soon enough. Castiel then felt a book nudge itself against his hand. He looked up and found a boy on his knees gathering his books and babbling to himself. Castiel involuntarily tilted his head (a bad habit, his father said) in confusion. He didn't have to help him, so why was he bothering? It was then that the boy looked up and Castiel was confronted by one of the most beautiful faces he had ever seen. He had short blonde hair, soft green eyes and a small cluster of freckles across his cheeks that looked as if they were airbrushed on.

The boy then coughed and turned away. Castiel's eyes widened as he saw what the other boy had found. Hoping that the boy hadn't got a good look at it, Castiel snatched the slipper from his grasp, righted himself and restarted his original course at a much quicker pace. He couldn't deal with any more bullies today. After a minute he slowed down. It was then that he realised that he'd dropped his science textbook. Castiel paused and debated whether or not to go back and retrieve it but thought better of it. He's probably stolen it or thrown it away by now, thought Castiel. He was only a block away from the gym now anyway so it would be pointless. Besides, he was never going to see that boy again.

Little did he know that Dean Winchester was following at a more sedate and cautious pace, curious to know more about this Castiel Novak that happened to run into his life.

Dean had followed Castiel to the gym in town and now stood in the reception wondering what the hell he was doing. I've basically just stalked this guy that I ran into just to return a stupid book, Dean thought to himself because it was just too weird to say out loud. It's the polite thing to do, he reasoned with himself, I mean the guy was in a rush and all, probably didn't have time to go searching for his stuff; I'm doing him a favour. I'm not curious at all. Nope. Well… oh come on! The guy had ballet slippers for Christ's sake! That's a little interesting.

After an awkward conversation with the receptionist Dean found out where the dance rooms were and decided to hand over the book and leave as painlessly as possible. Dean heard some soft piano music drift down the corridor so decided to try his luck. The door that the music was coming from was slightly ajar so Dean, being Dean, poked his head through to make sure no girls were doing any stretches or splits. What he saw though was much more breathtaking.

Castiel, clad in a baggy shirt, leggings and his slippers, was dancing. It was the most graceful and beautiful thing Dean had ever seen. Wait, did I just use the word beautiful to describe a dude? The thought didn't last long as Castiel had leapt through the air and landed perfectly. The way his eyes were downcast and a small, barely noticeable smile graced his lips, he was the very definition of beauty. His moves flowed and melted into one another like liquid; it was flawless.

Well, it was, until the CD player decided that it liked these three seconds the best and wanted everyone else to appreciate them. With a huff of annoyance that can only be pulled off by someone who has had to put up with faulty technology for most of their life, Castiel switched it off.

"That was amazing." Castiel visibly jumped at the sound of Dean's voice. A deer-in-the-headlights look passed across his face then decided to return and camp there. "Um," started Dean lamely when he realised that Castiel wasn't going to say anything, "I mean, that was the best ballet done by a guy that I've ever seen. It was ballet right? I don't know much about dancing, nothing really." Dean realised he was babbling (and that he only seemed to do it around this Castiel guy) and raked a hand through his sandy hair. He slowly took a few steps into the room like he was approaching a real deer. "Um, you dropped this," he said, producing the book and handing it out to Castiel. Cautiously Castiel reached out a hand and took the book and clutched it to his chest as if it would offer some form of protection.

"Thank you," said Castiel with a curt nod. "I never apologised for running into you earlier."

"No, it's fine. It was my fault really." Dean stopped himself before he could start rambling again. "Name's Dean Winchester," he said extending his hand, which Castiel took.

"Castiel Novak."

"I know." Castiel looked taken aback and then became even more confused when Dean let out a small chuckle. "Don't freak out. You wrote your name on the inside page. Sorry, I was curious."

"Oh," was all Castiel said.

"I meant what I said you know. The way you dance… well, it was really amazing." Castiel blushed and dropped his gaze to the floor. He opened his mouth to say something but was cut off when someone burst through the door.

"Hey kiddo! Sorry I'm late, I had some- oh hello. Got company have we?" The short blonde guy quirked an eyebrow at Dean and had a mischievous grin that seemed to be permanent. "Who's your friend Cassy?"

"Oh, I'm-"

"He's just leaving," Castiel supplied giving Dean a subtle but meaningful look.

"Yeah, I am. Sorry 'bout that um…" said Dean making his way towards to door. "Well, I guess I'll see ya around sometime Cas," and with that he left.

What Dean didn't see was the surprise that flashed across Castiel's face at the nickname. Gabriel was the only one that gave him nicknames but that's default brother settings. That was the first nickname anyone had ever given him that wasn't degrading or humiliating. That was the first nickname that he actually liked. Castiel secretly hoped that he would in fact see Dean Winchester around sometime.

"Where did you go then?"

"Just for a walk." Dean decided that it wasn't really lying when you didn't tell the whole truth but just a small insignificant part of it. Sam just shrugged and carried on with is homework.

"What are you idjits doin' here?" Grunted Bobby as he came through the door. Bobby was like an uncle to the Winchester boys so whenever they needed a safe house (which Dean needed at an average of once a week) they'd lie low here. Or, in this case, when their dad was away on business and Bobby was promoted to Winchester sitting duties.

"Dad's at work Bobby, didn't he tell-" Dean started.

"No. I know _why_ you're here dumbass, I'm asking ya what you're doin'. Jesus, it's like talkin' to a brick wall." Sam and Dean were used to Bobby's idiosyncrasies so they didn't pay much attention to the occasional good-natured insult.

"Studying," stated Sam as he turned the page of his maths book.

"Er, yeah. Studying," said Dean, taking a seat at the table.

"Something on your mind boy?" How does he do that? Dean thought with a sigh.

"It's nothing Bobby. Just thinking about some stuff."

"Don't strain yourself," muttered Sam, turning another page.

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

"Shut it you great pair of idjits before you give me an aneurysm." A small silence spread out between them that was occasionally broken by rustling as Sam turned another page.

"Hey Bobby, you still got that old mustang out back?"

"Well seeing as the engine is still in the garage I'd be pretty surprised if it's driven off by itself. Go on then, but watch out for the paintwork."

Dean always found that mending the old cars that Bobby had helped calm him and help him think. That's probably why he did so well in his motor mechanics class. Right now though he was waist deep in the space where the engine should be tinkering with the electrics, mulling over the weird day he'd just had. He had so many questions and was finding it difficult to formulate any answers.

Exams were coming up soon as well but that didn't really bother Dean that much (he was relying on his natural charm and Winchester luck to get him through them) what was bothering him was how to spend his two weeks study leave. Sam, the big nerd that he was, was already taking full advantage of his time. Dean couldn't spend all his time trying to fix these dilapidated relics; besides, he wanted to know more about this Cas kid. As soon as that thought passed through his head, Dean's mind started to wander back when he first saw him dancing. It was the most stunning thing Dean had ever seen. He wondered inwardly if he was still dancing at this very moment.

The CD player was a lost cause. It had coughed and spluttered and nearly exploded so Gabriel thought it best to unplug it and humanely destroy it when he got the chance. He and Castiel were sitting on the floor, their backs against the piano in the corner that had always been there like a piece of furniture as neither of them played.

"So, who's your boyfriend?" Gabriel teased, giving Castiel a playful nudge with his shoulder. Gabriel had inherited his mother's straight blonde-brown hair and his father's hazel eyes. No one knew where he got his height (or lack there of) from.

"Dean's not my boyfriend Gabriel."

"Oh, so he does have a name."

"He was just returning my book," continued Castiel, ignoring his brother easily through years of practice.

"In exchange for?" Gabriel said waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Fortunately brother he is not as crass as you are. He was just doing a good deed, people are known for doing them you know."

"Alright, alright. I was just hoping that my little Cassy had finally found love," said Gabriel giving a dramatic sigh and wiping a faux tear from his eye. Cas didn't acknowledge his brother's attempt at humour and continued to stare at his hands, which didn't go unnoticed. "What you thinking about kiddo?"

"Well, it's our parents."

"Are mom and dad being a complete bag of dicks again?" said Gabriel with a huff of distain.

"Not exactly the words I'd use but yes. I've just had enough of them telling me what I can and cannot do. Which is why I want to ask you if… you don't have to say yes but… can I come and live with you?" When Cas lifted his gaze any flicker of hope he had before was thoroughly doused. Gabriel had a pained expression and was worrying his lip. He looked Cas in the eye and in a split second his features contorted into a blinding smile.

"Of course you can! God, Cassy, stop being so tense!" Gabriel laughed.

"That was a dirty trick," Cas smiled giving Gabriel a rough shove.

"Would you expect anything less of me? So, I'm going to take a wild guess and say that mom and dad have no clue." Cas nodded. Gabriel thought for a moment. "Do they know that you're here now?" Cas shook his head. "Jesus Cassy, you're right in it aren't you? You do know that I am brother-bound to call them to let them know that you want to get as far away from them as possible."

"Please don't use those exact words." Gabriel sighed, patted Cas on the shoulder and hauled himself up, pulling Cas along after.

"Come on then," said Gabriel with a smirk, leading Castiel out of the dance room, "you're gonna love my roommates."

Half an hour and a very loud phone call later Castiel was stood outside Gabriel's apartment. Gabriel lived in a small two-bedroom apartment above a bakery a few blocks away from the college. On the way he had boasted how the owner gave them a few free cakes everyday.

"Here we are," said Gabriel gesturing for Castiel to open the door. "Home sweet home."

It wasn't what Castiel was expecting. He thought that it would be a loud, messy, chaotic, stereotypical student apartment. It was in fact quite well looked after, even if they did only have one sofa that the four other occupants were currently squashed together on.

"Hey guys, this is my little bro, he's gonna be crashing with us. Cassy, meet Anna, Balty, Lucy and Alice."

"Hey! What did I tell you would happen if you ever dared to call me that again?" The guy formally introduced as 'Lucy' sent Gabriel a menacing look that he shrugged off with ease and perched on the arm of the couch.

The only girl in the room had red hair and a kind smile. She stood and enveloped Castiel in a brief hug. "Hey Cassy, I'm Anna. Word of warning; piss me off and don't expect any dinner," then she tuned and headed into the kitchen.

Cas glanced to Gabriel for an explanation. "Anna is the 'mother' of our little dysfunctional family group. She cooks like a professional and it's to die for. You think we clean up because we _want_ to?"

"Well, you seem to get on well with each other," observed Cas as he perched on the other arm.

"Nah, we hate each other's guts. Isn't that right Balty?" Gabriel nudged the guy beside him.

"Piss off," he said in a British accent, shoving Gabriel back.

"See?"

"So, why do they call you Alice?" Cas asked the boy beside him who had curly platinum-blonde hair. He was answered instead by Lucy.

"'Aziraphale' was too long."

"We tried shortening it to 'A' but we ended up sounding Canadian," added Anna from the adjoining kitchen.

"Then Gabriel here thought it was a great opportunity to give him an humiliating nickname," added Balty. Cas really needed to learn these people's real names.

"It was not meant to be humiliating," argued Gabriel, "it was meant to be more of… an initiation."

"Initiation?" Cas asked worriedly. He didn't need or want a new nickname, especially if Gabriel had any say in the matter.

"Yeah, Aziraphale just moved here from across the pond a few days ago. He's Balthazar's cousin," said Gabriel with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"So," started Cas after a minute of silence only broken by screaming and car crashes emanating from the TV, "what do you guys do?"

"We're all dance students," summed up Lucy. Seriously, how does a guy get that nickname? Curiosity finally got the better of him.

"Sorry, but what is your real name?"

"It's Lucifer." Cas was taken aback by the seriousness and bluntness of the reply.

"Oh," was his intelligent response.

"Don't ask him why he was called that," informed Balthazar, "he changes the story every time."

"What did he tell Alice when he asked him?" called Anna from the kitchen.

"I think it was, the moment he was born a volcano erupted in a part of the world devastating the land so nothing could grow there again," supplied Balthazar trying to suppress a laugh. Gabriel on the other hand didn't seem to care.

"Oh no, _my_ favourite was, he was born on the sixth day of the sixth month at six minutes past six!" Gabriel's laughter was cut off when he was given a rough shove by Lucifer and landed face-first on the floor. "Hey!" Gabriel was about to throw himself at Lucifer when Anna shouted from the kitchen.

"Grub's up!" Never had Cas seen anyone move so fast in his life. Only he and Aziraphale were left on the sofa.

"I never got to say hello properly," said Aziraphale politely extending a hand to Cas, "and please, don't call me Alice."

Cas chuckled, "Only if you don't call me Cassy." Gabriel was right; Anna's food was to die for. After they'd polished their plates (and washed and dried them) they spent the rest of the evening in friendly conversation.

Cas thought that they did in fact operate like 'a dysfunctional family group'. Anna was the mother who managed to be strict and doting at the same time. Balthazar was the suave uncle that always looked as though he should have a glass of wine in his hand. Aziraphale was the cousin that you always saw because he was so likable that your parents wished that you could be more like him and you agreed with them. Lucifer was the other uncle that made you fear for your life if you got on the wrong side of him and Gabriel was the annoyingly loud older brother that you wish would watch what he says. Castiel truly felt like he was finally home. Although, something was missing and he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean knew there was something missing but he couldn't put his finger on what it was. Then it dawned on him. "That's it. Sammy, pass the whipped cream."

"Do you ever stop eating?" asked Sam with a grimace as he watched his brother inhale his fourth slice of pie.

"Not when it tastes this good." Sam just rolled his eyes and scribbled down a note from his maths book. "Do you ever stop studying?" said Dean, attempting to sound like Sam but finding it difficult what with a mouth full of pie and all.

"Tell you what, you stop eating; I stop studying, deal?"

"No deal, pie is way too special to be betted with. Come here baby, Dean will protect you." Sam rolled his eyes for the second time as Dean pulled his plate even closer and wrapped an arm around it.

"Now that's just creepy."

"Don't listen to him baby, he's just jealous."

"Yeah right," Sam muttered as he pushed away from the table.

Today being a Saturday, the Winchester brothers had indulged themselves with a lie-in so Sam had still to do his morning run which Dean was insisting that he turn into a morning run to the bakery to get more pie. Why Dean was so obsessed with the foodstuff Sam will never truly understand. Before Sam could shut the door he heard a muffled shout that sounded a lot like 'don't forget my pie', and he was off before Dean could specify.

Everybody needed an outlet for stress. Some box, some sew; Sam ran. It was just the rhythmic pounding of his sneakers on the sidewalk that helped him think and relax. He would make his way to the park like he always did then make a detour to the bakery like he was always ordered to do.

"Hey Sam!" Sam hopped to a stop at the mention of his name. Looking around he found the owner of the voice.

"Oh, hey Jo," he said when he reached her, "How's Ash holdin' up?"

"Ok I guess, but mom's confiscated his computer which he says is worse than death."

"He's crazy," Sam muttered ruefully, remembering a previous incident concerning the boy in question that included blowing a hole in his back yard.

"He's an idiot. So where you headin'?"

"On a pie run."

"What?"

"Dean's orders."

Jo was about to say something when two blonds sauntered past. "Hey Jo, how are you today?" said the first, sounding completely insincere.

"Aw, is this your boyfriend?" cooed the second, who had longer hair than the first.

"He can't be, Jo's a total lesbo."

"And if she wasn't he is so out of her league."

"Shut your face Meg or I'll shut it for you!" Jo yelled.

"Ooh, big talk for such a small rat," sneered the second blonde.

"Meg, Ruby, just piss off!"

"Free country," said Meg crossing her arms across her chest.

"Jo, maybe we should just go," whispered Sam, not wanting his friend to get into more trouble. Reluctantly Jo nodded and turned away, strongly fighting the urge to punch them both into the ground.

"Who were they?" asked Sam when they were a safe distance away. Jo sat on one of the parks many benches.

"Just a pair of bitches who want to make my life a living Hell," muttered Jo, scowling at her sneakers.

Sam sat down beside her. "You've never mentioned them before."

"Yeah, well before it was just half-assed insults in the hallway and the odd spit ball to the neck but now they're really laying it on thick."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know." It's true, he didn't. Sam always kept tabs on the people he's close to (which primarily included Dean) so that he always knew what was going on. Jo, being a year younger than him (and a girl), was not so easy to keep an eye on.

"It's alright, I can handle it," she smiled with a dismissive wave. Never let it be said that Jo Harvelle cannot take care of herself.

"Hey, do you wanna come with me?" Sam asked jumping up from the bench.

"Sorry, no can do," sighed Jo, "I've gotta study and I've slacked off way too much."

"Ok. But if anything, _anything_ else happens with those two, you'll let me know," he said. Jo was like the little sister he never had and Samuel Winchester was very protective over his family.

Jo laughed. "Sure thing Sammy, see ya around," she said stepping on the bench to playfully slap Sam upside the head. Before Sam could reiterate she had already jumped down and ran off in the other direction. Sam shook his head and set off on his original course.

The tinkling ring of the doorbell signalled Sam's entrance into the small shop. It was a bright little place, the sun streaming through the windows glinting off every glass surface. A few people were sitting in booths and at tables enjoying a coffee or confection of their preference.

"The usual again kiddo?" asked the familiar voice behind the counter.

"Why do you always call me that?" Sam said, slipping into the easy banter.

"Well, you are younger than me _kiddo_, I'd of thought that would have been a clue."

"But I'm taller than you, it doesn't really work."

"Would you prefer Moose? Gigantor? Samosaurus?"

"Ok Gabriel! You've made your point." Gabriel smirked and waggled his eyebrows in his trademark fashion before retrieving the pie. Sam, being a frequent customer (whether due to Dean's moaning or his own general compliance he wasn't too sure) prided himself on knowing Gabriel Novak quite well, so was sure to double check that he actually got pie this time.

"You must really love pie," Gabriel said as he punched the numbers into the cash register.

"Oh no, it's not mine. I don't really like pie."

"And yet you come here at least once a week," said Gabriel, pointedly raising an eyebrow.

"It's for my brother," Sam said handing over the money.

"So you say every time Sammy, now tell me why you're really here," said Gabriel, leaning over the counter.

Sam let out a nervous laugh. "No, really, Dean loves this stuff, I'm just the delivery boy."

Gabriel straightened up at the mention of Dean's name and was silent for a moment. Sam saw something flicker behind his eyes but it was gone before he could place it and a wicked smirk was back in place. "You have a brother called Dean," Gabriel said casually.

"Er, yeah," said Sam, still rather confused as to what had just happened. He was about to ask when Gabriel continued talking. Mostly to himself.

"This is brilliant. I've always known I should have changed my name to Cupid. Sammy! Prepared to play match-maker?"

"What?" Sam was now truly at a loss. He knew that Gabriel was a little eccentric but this was just a new level of devious secrecy bordering on the insane.

"I think your brother, Dean, has a thing for my little bro, Cassy, and I think Cas likes Dean-o too. All we need to do is get them both to admit it, preferably to each other. You following kiddo?"

"Wait, what? Dean's not- I mean I'm not against it but- He's not!"

"Can only tell you what I saw Sammy. Here," he said, scribbling something down on a scrap of paper and passing it across the counter, "this is my number, just in case. You're helping me out on this one whether you like it or not. Now off you go. I've got other customers to see to, I can't waste all of my time on you handsome," Gabriel winked before turning back into the kitchen.

Sam stood there for a moment before awkwardly leaving with another ding. What just happened? As he started to make his way back Sam decided to take it piece-by-piece, slice-by-slice. Great, he thought, now I'm making freaking pie innuendos.

So what was the first thing Gabriel said? Dean has a thing for his brother. I didn't know he had a brother, Sam thought. Then he shook himself back to the real matter at hand. Dean just wasn't gay. There was no way. He probably knew more about cars than the people who built them and Sam was certain that Dean didn't borrow his laptop to do his English assignments.

What else had Gabriel said? Something about Cupid and matchmaking. What? Did Gabriel seriously want him to help him get their brothers together? That guy was insane, Sam had only known him for a couple months and they only spoke when they were in the bakery. It wasn't like they were friends or anything. Well, they were friends but not _close_ friends, they certainly weren't close enough to start meddling in the opposite's brother's love life (or lack thereof in Dean's case).

It was then that Sam realised that he still had Gabriel's number clasped in the hand not currently occupied by Dean's food. He contemplated throwing it away but something told him that he would need it, even as a means to tell Gabriel that he was wrong.

Sam had reached the house and his hand was on the doorknob when his memory threw something back at him. Did Gabriel call him handsome? The thought didn't last long as he stumbled forward as Dean opened the door on him, nearly dropping the sacred pie.

"Dude, what are you doing out here?" Dean asked after making sure the blueberry confection was still intact.

"Thinking," Sam deadpanned.

"Was your grapefruit designed to have an off switch?"

"Apparently not," Sam mumbled under his breath as he followed Dean back into the kitchen. He watched his brother steal a rather generous slice of the newly bought pie before stashing the rest in the refrigerator. Sam had once hidden one of Dean's pies claiming that it would make it last longer. Dean was not amused and had threatened Sam with his life if he didn't get it back in three seconds (and that was Dean on a good day). Surely a guy like that wasn't the gay sort, although, Sam thought, Dean was basically obsessed with a dessert.

"Sam! Hello, anyone home?" Sam blinked back into reality to find Dean waving a hand in front of his eyes.

"Hmm? What?"

"I said I'm going out. I'm meeting up with Crowley so don't wait up for me." Dean brushed past Sam and was about to leave when Sam called him back. "What?" he asked impatiently.

"Are- have you, er, well…"

"Come on Sam, spit it out."

"I was just wondering," started Sam, thinking it best to grab the bull by the horns, though hopefully not literally, "do you know a Cas Novak?" Dean stiffened slightly but quickly righted himself.

"What? No. Never heard that name in my life, what kind of a name is 'Cas' anyway?" said Dean unconvincingly but Sam knew better than to press the subject. "So, er, I'll be off then. See ya Sammy."

"It's Sam," sighed Sam after the door shut behind his brother. He fished out his cell and decided to end this matter once and for all, even if he wasn't entirely convinced himself. Sam decided that on certain subjects, ignorance was bliss.

**Message Sent**

_You were wrong, he's never even met him._

Sam was startled to hear his phone vibrate only after a moments of him sending the text. Gabriel was obviously expecting it.

**Message Received**

_He lies Sammy! Tell him to go to the supermarket in town._

**Message Sent**

_Why? I've asked him about your brother and he says he doesn't know him._

**Message Received**

_Just tell him. Pretty, pretty please with chocolate sprinkles on top!_

**Message Sent**

_Fine, but you better not kidnap him. I know where you…work._

**Message Received**

_Yay! Thank you Sammy! Oh, and meet me in the park in 15 where you will be proven wrong my moosey friend! (;_

Sam sighed again. He hoped Gabriel would never call him 'moose' again, alright he was tall but he didn't have freaking antlers. After texting Dean with a lame excuse to go and pick up more milk he set off for the park.

As he walked Sam thought of something that was quite interesting and slightly worrying. Gabriel had called him 'Sammy' more than twice and he'd found out that he didn't mind the nickname that much if it was Gabriel who said it. Sam decided not to dwell on that thought as he made his way to the boy in question, wondering what scheme his mind had come up with and had managed to lure Sam into.

Gabriel yawned. It was a gold medal worthy yawn. It was the sort that seemed to start at your toes and carry on forever, tingling up your spine, until it reached your fingertips as you stretched towards the ceiling. He was standing in the kitchen waiting for his toast to appear, Anna sat at the table nursing a mug of coffee, when Cas shuffled in, his hair (if possible) even more dishevelled than usual.

"Morning kiddo, sleep well?"

"It was a sofa Gabriel, I must admit I didn't have high hopes."

"Well, aren't we very articulate this morning," said Gabriel grabbing his toast, which was a bad idea.

"Are the others up?" asked Cas.

"Yup, except Alice. Seriously, I don't think a bulldozer fighting a wall and winning would wake him," mumbled Anna drowsily, taking a long sip of her coffee.

"Is that the best you could come up with?" jeered Gabriel with a kind smirk.

"Hey, it's too early. I need at least another coffee before I'm up to scratch," she said, getting up to retrieve presumably the aforementioned second cup of caffeine.

"So, where are they?" asked Cas with a yawn.

"Work," stated Gabriel, buttering his toast.

"Really? Do you all have jobs?"

"Yeah, that's kind of how we buy stuff. And pay rent," added Anna as she sat back down at the table.

"So you and Alice are responsible for the structural integrity of this flat while we're away," mumbled Gabriel through a mouthful of toast. "I'll be downstairs if you need me but I would prefer it, if the flat decided to blow up, that you guys got the full force of hurricane Anna."

"Alright, what do you want us to do?"

"You could get the shopping," answered Anna, "there's a list on the counter."

"And take Alice with you, he's still not familiar with our American money. He keeps getting dimes and nickels mixed up." There was a small silence, broken by Anna taking another sip of coffee, Gabriel polishing off the last of his toast and Cas trying to stifle another yawn.

"Today is Saturday, right?" asked Anna feigning innocence.

"You, shut up," said Gabriel, knowing it was a loaded question.

"What is it?" asked Cas proceeding to make his own beverage.

"It's Saturday today. Or as the French and Gabriel say, it's Sam-day." Gabriel groaned and Cas almost dropped his mug. "What? It's not my fault you're smitten for the jail-bait."

"He's not jail-bait and I'm not smitten. Other than that your bang on the money."

"Gabriel," said Cas. Gabriel looked over and the look Cas sent him was like a tired pleading puppy just wanting the answers. Damn Cas and his pretty blue eyes.

Gabriel sighed and shrugged dramatically. "What can I say Cassy, he's the cutest moose you'll ever see."

"Moose?" asked Cas tilting his head.

"Yes, and I'll miss him if I don't leave now, I'm already late as it is. Don't burn the house down!" Gabriel called as he swiftly exited the flat. He made his way down the stairs, went around the back and entered the kitchen, grabbing his nametag and apron from the hook by the door.

It was slow going that morning. It was slow going every morning, but that's what Gabriel loved about the job. It was easy and required very little effort, the fact that he was allowed to swipe any leftovers from the day was an added bonus.

The bell above the door trilled and in he walked. No matter what Anna said Gabriel was not smitten. Sam was handsome, no one could deny that, but he wasn't just a pretty face, there was something else about him that intrigued Gabriel and he wanted to know more.

The simple conversation between them flowed easily from weeks of practice but something Sam said caught Gabriel's attention for two reasons. _'…really, Dean loves this stuff…'_. Dean. What a stroke of luck, Gabriel thought, I knew I saw something between those two, all I need is to get them together somehow. And, if all goes according to plan, it could land me with some quality get-to-know-you time with Sammy. His plan was so cunning you could of stuck a tail on it and called it a weasel.

Gabriel had told Sam of his idea, gotten thoroughly shot down, and, in a last ditch attempt to ensure that when Sam left it wouldn't be the last time he heard from him, he quickly scribbled down and gave him his number. When Sam left Gabriel realised how stupid that was. He had basically called his brother a queer and shoved his number under his nose. Sam was either going to be mad at him for insulting his brother's sexual integrity or offended that a guy gave him his number, implying that he may be gay.

Gabriel's head hurt, he was over thinking this. He was about to take his lunch break when his phone buzzed in his pocket. As he read it his mood elevated once more and he grinned as he tapped in a quick-fire response. Sending his final text he punched out and made his way towards the park.

He had picked the optimum position from which to watch his plan unfold. The bench in particular was in sight of the supermarket but not obviously so. Gabriel wondered inwardly if he should be worried about the amount of planning he was putting into this but dismissed it and popped a sherbet lemon (from his stash that he kept on his person at all times) into his mouth.

Sam didn't take long to arrive. Gabriel saw him from the other side of the park looking around for him and, after a little too enthusiastically waving him over, watched him roll his eyes and take a seat beside him. Gabriel easily hid his disappointment when Sam left a distance between them.

"Go on then," Sam started, not looking at Gabriel, "prove me wrong."

"Look, Sam," said Gabriel hearing the tense note in Sam's voice, "you don't have to stay. It was stupid of me to ask you here in the first place."

"What?"

"I know you probably think that I'm a massive dick because of everything I said before, but I just want to say I'm sorry."

"I don't think that." Gabriel's eyebrows shot up before knotting together in confusion. "What gave you that idea? No, I'm mad at Dean. He's the one lying to me."

"I thought you were convinced that he was as straight as a ramrod."

"He is straight but he's not gay either."

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "Ok, that explains everything! Walk me through it Sammy."

"I asked him about Cas and he said he's never seen him before."

"Yes, yes, I know that much. What else?" said Gabriel, leaning forward impatiently.

"Dean's a rubbish liar. He obviously likes him, but he's not gay at all. I think he's confused."

"Well that's why we're here Sammy, to give them a push in the right direction. Sherbet?" he asked, nudging Sam's arm with the paper bag. Sam smiled and took a few.

"So, does your brother like Dean?" asked Sam.

Gabriel chuckled. "You should of seen his face when I walked in on the two of them talking together. It was like I caught him looking at porn, poor kid." Gabriel's humorous tone died down, leaving him with a pensive expression. "There was something there, a spark, no matter how small. Call it fate, destiny, coincidence, sheer dumb luck, but I think that they are meant to be together. It just seems to…fit."

Sam nodded as he thought about what Gabriel said. "I didn't know I'd caught you in philosophical mood." Gabriel snickered. "So when did they meet?"

"Hmm, just the other day."

"Yesterday?" exclaimed Sam, nearly choking on his sherbet lemon. "And you think they're destined to be together after just meeting once?"

"Don't you believe in love at first sight Sammy?"

"Not really. I believe that there is one person for everyone but falling in love just like that," he said, snapping his fingers to enunciate the 'that', "that's just the stuff of movies and corny sitcoms, it never happens in real life."

"Correction, it _almost_ never happens in real life. Our brothers our the poster boys of impossible real-life romance scenarios."

Sam chuckled and shook his head. "Alright, alright. So why did you want me here?"

"Just so that, if we need to intervene, I'll have a wingman to assist me."

"Seriously Gabe, what's-"

"Over there! See him?" Gabriel pointed across the street where two boys were walking.

"Yeah, which one is your brother?" asked Sam, spotting them easily. "Is it the blonde one in the skinny jeans?"

"No, that's Alice. Cas is the other one in… hey! That's my jumper!"

Sam laughed at Gabriel's scandalised expression and he raised an eyebrow. "Why did you call the blonde guy Alice?"

"Long name, even longer story."

"So, I'm guessing that they're going to the supermarket, no?"

"Well done Sammy, you catch on fast," grinned Gabriel, ruffling Sam's hair. "All we have to do is wait until Dean-o shows up and then watch the magic happen. So when did you tell him to come?"

"Not 10 minutes ago, but he did say he was on his way to meet up with Crowley."

"Then he should be here by now." As if on queue, Dean and a boy dressed in black jeans and a black shirt rounded the corner. There was a brief moment when they both hesitated outside the store presumably talking about something or other, before finally going in. Gabriel let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Well, that's phase one perfectly executed."

"What do you mean, 'phase one'? There's more than one phase to this plan?"

"Oh Sammy, you didn't think it was going to be that easy did you? We need to continue to draw them closer together. Bumping into each other in the supermarket just won't cut it. We need to think this out strategically."

"No, you need a therapist before you loose your mind completely."

"But Sammy-" Gabriel whined, pouting and putting on his best puppy eyes.

"No. We've done enough damage already." They were silent for a minute. A light breeze swept by, making the leaves on the tree behind them rustle quietly, like they were whispering to one another.

Gabriel smiled. "Think of it this way: you'd be manipulating your brother without him knowing. You'd be doing this for his own good, and Cas'. You'd get to spend more quality time with yours truly."

Sam chuckled. "The last one on the list does sound tempting," he said. Sam wondered if his sarcasm showed through in that sentence or if the truth behind the statement masked it. Gabriel, however, didn't pick up on it.

"Great! Now, all we have to do is wait until they come out."

"Why? What do we do then?"

"I've not thought that far ahead, but don't worry, something will come to me."

"I thought you said that you'd thought this out strategically."

"No, I said that's what we _need_ to do."

"So, what do we do in the mean time?"

Gabriel shrugged. "Talk. Unless I'm too boring for you."

Sam laughed. "You? Boring? I don't think that's possible." Gabriel laughed at that and they slipped into an amiable silence once more.

"So, tell me a bit about you Sammy," said Gabriel, interrupting the quiet.

"Not much to tell, you know most of it already." It's true, he did. During Sam's weekly visitations to Gabriel's work they'd chat about nothing important, occasionally things that were noteworthy and other things that bordered on the private and personal.

"Yes, but I don't know you. What's your favourite colour? What things are you afraid of? Who do you like? Who don't you like? How many past girlfriends have you had?"

"Why do you want to know those things?"

"I'm curious," said Gabriel with a smirk and a waggle of his eyebrows. So, Sam talked. He answered all of Gabriel's questions and he didn't mind it so much. He was alright with Gabriel knowing these things, but why he was ok with it he still hadn't figured out.

Gabriel on the other hand listened intently, which was a hard task even for him. He was usually the one to talk for an age without so much as taking a breath, but because Sam was talking, he took in all the information and stored it carefully away so as not to forget it. Gabriel knew somewhere in the back of his mind that Sam in all probability will never like him the way Gabriel likes him, but even if they only ended up as being close friends, that was enough for him.

It wasn't long before two figures exited the supermarket across the street, making their way towards the park. It was Sam who pointed them out. "That's not Cas," stated Gabriel.

"No, it's Crowley and… Alice. Seriously Gabe, what's the guy's name?"

"Aziraphale."

"Bless you."

"No, that's his name, smart ass," said Gabriel, playfully smacking Sam on the shoulder. Sam smirked and pushed him back.

"Odd name. Is he European?"

"Close enough. He's British."

"Ah, that will explain why he's with Crowley."

"Hmm?"

"He's British too."

"Oh."

"Are Dean and Cas still in there?"

"I would imagine so, it was a big shopping list," said Gabriel. His eyes narrowed as he watched Aziraphale and Crowley sit together on a bench on the other side of the park. "Now, what do you suppose is going on over there?"

"Gabe, we're already spying on our brothers, lets not bring our friends into it too."

"Aw Sam, you're no fun." Despite Sam's protest on the subject they watched the two other boys on the bench talk to each other, unable to hear what they were saying.

Sam then realised something. "They'll be able to see us won't they?"

"Nah, not unless they open their eyes," said Gabriel.

"If Crowley finds out that I'm spying on him he'll kill me."

"I though you said he was your friend?"

"Crowley doesn't have friends, he has allies. Come on Gabe, why don't we just go," said Sam standing up from the bench.

"But Dean and Cas are still in there," Gabriel protested, grabbing Sam's wrist and pulling him back down.

"Well, why don't we go to the bakery? Your lunch break is well and truly up and they'll have to pass it anyway. Please Gabe, or Crowley will have my guts for garters." Gabriel smiled at the nickname that Sam had started to use and stood up.

"Fine, lets go then before they see us." Sam stood up and followed Gabriel, who had started to walk off in the direction of the bakery, cautiously looking over is shoulder to ensure that they hadn't been noticed. Gabriel, however, did, and chuckled softly to himself. "Sammy, you're so cute when you're anxious." Sam was glad that Gabriel was still a few paces in front of him, as he didn't want the other to notice the slight blush that tinged his cheeks.

The moment they entered the bakery the woman behind the counter gave Gabriel what would have been an icy stare if her smirk hadn't given the game away. "You're lunch break ended 15 minutes ago, do I want to know what you were doing with your time?" she asked giving Sam a pointed glance. Sam coughed embarrassedly at the inference. Gabriel just smirked back at her.

"We were just ensuring that the course of love ran smoothly for certain anonymous individuals, weren't we Sammy?" he said, clapping Sam on the back before hopping around the back of the counter.

"Er, yeah," Sam said lamely.

"Oh Gabriel, don't tell me you're playing matchmaker again?" asked the woman with an exasperated sigh that could only of come with experience.

"You got me Pam, can't keep anything secret from you," said Gabriel, the statement practically oozing with sarcasm. Pamela (Sam just noticing her name tag) rolled her eyes and threw Gabriel's apron in his face. "Hey!"

"Think fast," snickered Pamela before she returned to the kitchen.

"So, not bad for a day's work eh Sammy?" asked Gabriel after he'd finished tying his apron.

"Guess not. So, what now?" Sam sighed, folding his arms and resting them on the counter.

"We keep in touch," answered Gabriel, putting his elbow adjacent to Sam's arms on the counter and resting his head in his hand, "and when my brilliant plan kicks in we execute it flawlessly."

"Kind of a tall order coming from someone so short," quipped Sam, which earned him a smack on the head.

Gabriel sighed, looking out of the shop window. "Do you think I'm obsessing over this too much?" he asked distantly as though deep in thought.

"Nah, I think it's kinda sweet that you care for your brother so much," Sam said without thinking. When he noticed Gabriel's raised eyebrow he realised what he's just said and tried to backtrack. "Um, I mean- no, it's just, er…"

Gabriel laughed. "Sam, you are just the cutest." Sam was about to protest but Gabriel's eyes had laid on something outside and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. "They're outside! Quick, get down!"

Sam had great reflexes. Whenever someone shouted 'think fast', 'heads up' or 'look out' he was the first to respond and move out of the offending object's way. Now, when Gabriel said 'get down' he immediately ducked his head onto his crossed arms. What he wasn't expecting to interrupt his trajectory was the head of Gabriel, also trying to hide himself on the counter's small surface. They collided with a 'clunk' and both recoiled muttering their own individual expletives.

Meanwhile, Cas and Dean walked by outside the shop, taking no notice of the two boys laughing at their own stupidity.


	3. Chapter 3

It wasn't until Monday that Dean saw Cas again. He and Sam were currently on their way into town, his guitar slung across his back. Sam had seemed insistent that he bring it but for what he was still in the dark about. Actually, he didn't know where they were going either. Man, I really must have been spaced out when I agreed to this, he thought, whatever _this_ is.

His mind had still been stuck on that Saturday past. He'd just happened to bump into (though not literally this time) Cas in the supermarket and they actually had a good time. Well, as good a time as anyone can have in a supermarket. Crowley and the other guy Cas had introduced as Aziraphale went off somewhere to talk and he and Cas were left to continue shopping. Now that Dean thought about it, he did remember seeing something between Crowley and Aziraphale, it was almost as if they knew each other more than they let on.

Dean swerved around a lamppost and continued to follow Sam to their unknown destination. "How much farther Sammy?" he asked impatiently. They hadn't in all honesty walked a great deal but Dean's mind told him that he'd been trekking for ages.

"Just a couple more blocks." Dean sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He could remember everything about their conversation, everything Cas had said was stored carefully in his memory but he couldn't for the life of him think why that was. He knew he felt something, he knew the moment he first saw Cas dance; he just didn't know what it was.

"So, where are we goin' anyway?" he finally asked.

"Right…here," said Sam, stopping in front of the gym.

"Here? Why are we here?"

"Dean, I told you this not 15 minutes ago." Sam sighed when Dean just shrugged his shoulders. "My friend needs us to play for him, they don't have any music," Sam re-explained as they entered the building.

"Oh, right," mumbled Dean. He tried not to notice that they were heading towards the dance rooms. He was about to ask who Sam's friend was but he was inadvertently answered when he heard a familiar voice call out from the room.

"Hey Sammy, you're early!" The short blonde's grin was blinding and his eyes lit up as he bounded over to the Winchester brothers, gravitating slightly towards the youngest Winchester.

"Hey, I know you," said Dean.

"Nice to see you again too Dean-o." Dean's eyebrows shot up and his mouth, rather unattractively, hung agape in confusion.

"Dean, this is Gabriel. He needs us to play for them remember?" Sam explained, giving his brother a shove to shut his mouth.

"Er, yeah," agreed Dean. "So who's this 'them' we're playing for then?" he asked as he swung his guitar from his back.

"Oh, just a few friends," answered Gabriel with a dismissive wave. "It's over this way Sammy, I'm sure you'll be able to handle it," he said, resting a hand on Sam's shoulder and leading him to the opposite side of the room where in the corner lay a small old piano.

Dean took a perch on one of the few plastic chairs loitering beside the door and decided to tune his guitar while they waited. He heard Sam play a few notes on the piano, but what he didn't hear was the hushed voices coming from that side of the room.

"Well, so far so good," whispered Sam, playing a few more notes to cover his voice. "At least he's here."

"Yes, now we just have to make sure he stays," murmured Gabriel, taking the opportunity to lean as close as possible into Sam.

Sam noticed Gabriel's proximity and cleared his throat embarrassedly and took a small step back. "So, what are we playing?" Sam asked in his normal voice.

He saw a small flicker of hurt pass across Gabriel's face but he masked it quickly. "That depends," he said with his default smirk, "what can you play?"

Sam shrugged. "Most things," he answered vaguely.

"Go on then," said Gabriel challengingly, nodding towards the piano, "show us your skills boy-wonder."

"Alright," said Sam, taking his seat at the instrument with a confident grin. He tapped around the middle C, getting a feel for where the keys were and accidentally stumbling over the D. Gabriel let out a huff of laughter as he folded his arms on top of the piano and rested his head in his hand.

And then he played. It started out slow and melancholy, the notes drifting higher and higher before coming to a stop. Introducing his left hand he added depth to the piece as his fingers gracefully coaxed the notes from the ebonies and ivories. His body swayed as his foot pressed against the pedal as the song came to its climax. Finally raising his fingers off the keys he looked up at Gabriel.

His eyes were fixed on Sam's, gazing at him with awe. He smiled a small genuine smile that fit his features even more than his customary smirk. "That was beautiful," he breathed. Sam smiled up him bashfully but his eyes never strayed from Gabriel's honey orbs. He'd never noticed how bright his eyes were before.

"Show off." And the spell was broken. Sam sighed and turned in his seat to face Dean who was still tuning his guitar.

"You're jerk, you know that?"

"Bitch," Dean muttered not loud enough for Sam to hear but he knew he'd say it. Just then the door swung open and five more people entered into the room.

"Sorry we're late," said the red head as she made her way towards Gabriel.

"That's only because you were still doing your hair when we had to leave," muttered a tall boy with short blonde hair.

"Sam and Dean Winchester, meet Anna, Balthazar, Lucifer –yes, that really is his name– Aziraphale and Cassy," said Gabriel rather loudly, earning him seven puzzled expressions. "What? I hate introductions. They waste time. Best to have them over and done with."

"Um, ok. Now that that moment is past, what's the plan?" asked Balthazar grabbing a seat.

"They play, we practice," said Gabriel slowly as if he was explaining to an infant, "Sound simple enough for ya?" Balthazar rolled his eyes.

Cas nervously took a seat beside Dean, Aziraphale taking the one next to him. "Hello again Dean," he said quietly with a small smile.

"Hey, Cas," replied Dean just as softly. Aziraphale, even in his close proximity, didn't hear any of this. He was worrying his bottom lip and kept flicking his eyes towards the door.

"So, what are gonna start with?" asked Anna as she stretched her arms.

"We could do our tango," supplied Lucifer. Dean smirked when he saw his face as he strummed the first few chords of 'Dance with the Devil'. "Make another crack like that and the only thing that guitar will be of use for will be kindling."

"Now, now Lucy, no need to bring the end of days," giggled Gabriel. Lucifer just glared at him and folded his arms across his chest as he leaned against the wall.

"Come on, don't be like that," huffed Anna as she dragged Lucifer back onto the floor, "Lets get it over and done with, it's only the lifts we need to practice anyway." She quickly skipped over to Sam to tell him what to play and then they took their positions.

It was quite a spectacular tango, full of passion and sharp swift movements. Their dips were low and graceful and Anna's footwork was exceptional. Her kicks and split was effortless but they did fumble slightly with a lift. Other than that it was practically flawless. When they finished Gabriel whooped in form of an applause and Balthazar and Cas clapped appreciatively. Aziraphale mind was still somewhere else and his cousin had picked up on it.

"Aziraphale, is everything alright?" asked Balthazar, his brow furrowing with concern.

Aziraphale sighed dejectedly and lowered his gaze to his hands that were picking at his shirt. "I'm fine, really."

"Are you sure? Because if you're not-" he was interrupted as the door opened and another figure walked into the room dressed all in black.

"Am I late?" he asked.

"You came!" exclaimed Aziraphale, jumping off the chair and flinging his arms around the newcomer's neck in a quick crushing embrace.

"Of course I came," he wheezed out after Aziraphale let him go. "Oh, hey Dean."

"Crowley?"

"Give the boy a star," he muttered.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was invited," said Crowley inclining his head towards Aziraphale.

"Aziraphale," asked Balthazar, "who is he?"

"A friend," he stated simply.

"Wait, you mean you _know_ him, know him?" Dean asked Crowley.

"Hold on, I'm confused," said Sam from where he sat with the piano.

"Well you would be, you're a Winchester," mumbled Crowley.

"Stop, stop, stop!" shouted Gabriel. Eight sets of eyes were fixed on him, waiting for him to elaborate on his outburst. "If there's one thing I hate more than introductions its everyone not having the foggiest idea of what's going on. Now," he said, now talking directly to Crowley and Aziraphale, "why don't you tell the class everything from the beginning."

Crowley looked towards Aziraphale who gave a small nod. Taking a deep breath Crowley prepared himself for the long story he was about to tell.

"The beginning you say? Alright then but if you so much as breathe a word of this to anyone else, after I'm through with you, you'll be begging me to kill you," Crowley growled at Dean who shrunk further back into his chair as Crowley continued with his narrative of past events.

_Two days ago…_

"I don't see why you had to drag me along with you," complained Crowley as he and Dean made their way to the supermarket in town.

"The exercise will do you good," said Dean, "you are getting a bit large around the middle."

Crowley stopped. Dean turned and was confronted with a face like thunder. "I am not fat."

"Dude, chill out, I was kidding," said Dean, trying not to look directly into his eyes. The guy was as thin as a twig; he needed to learn how to take a joke. "Well, we're here anyway," he said quickly darting into the store. Crowley just sighed and followed him in.

"What was it you needed to get?" he asked when he finally caught up with Dean.

"Milk I think. Where's the milk?"

"You don't know where to find the milk? Surely you must be joking."

"Hey, don't blame me, blame Sam for always getting the groceries and not letting me help. And don't call me Shirley," he added with a smirk. Crowley was not impressed and just rolled his eyes and followed as Dean started to wander down an isle, looking around as if the milk was about to jump out at him.

They were now down their third isle when something, or rather someone caught his eye. "Cas?" he asked. The boy in question turned from looking at the pasta and a small smile spread across his face.

"Dean."

"Um, hi. How have ya been?" he asked awkwardly.

"Good, thank you. How about you?"

"Yeah, great. So, who's your friend?" he asked, nodding towards the platinum blonde who was selecting a sauce to go with the pasta. Dean didn't know why but he definitely felt jealous that this guy was hanging out with Cas, if you call shopping hanging out.

"Oh, this is Aziraphale. He's new around here." Crowley, who was oblivious to their previous conversation, stiffened at the mention of that name. It couldn't be, could it? He turned and found out that yes, it could. He quickly turned back around to hide his face.

"Oh, hey," said Dean with a small wave. "Um, this is just Crowley. He dragged me here," Dean lied with a nervous laugh.

Crowley wasn't paying attention, too lost in his thoughts. Why was he here, of all places? Did he know I was here? Does he even remember me? Crowley finally turned around again to face Aziraphale to find him staring wide-eyed at Crowley as though he had seen a ghost.

"Crowley?" It was barely a whisper but Crowley just caught it.

"Hey Zira," said Crowley, his voice lower than usual.

"Oh, have you guys already met?" asked Cas innocently, gesturing between the two of them.

Crowley cleared his throat. "Yeah, we kinda know each other."

"Really? Well that's fortunate, now Aziraphale doesn't have to be stuck with me all the time," Cas joked. Aziraphale just nodded numbly, his eyes never leaving Crowley's. After realising that Cas was giving him a funny look, Aziraphale shook his head and cleared his throat.

"Um, is- is there somewhere were me and… and Crowley can talk? And um, catch up?" Aziraphale said awkwardly.

"Well, there is the park across the street," supplied Cas.

"Oh, but what about the groceries?"

"I could give him a hand," offered Dean. "Um, I mean if that's ok with you," he added quickly seeing Cas tilt his head with interest.

Cas nodded and gave a small smile. "I'd like that."

"Well, I'll catch you later Dean," said Crowley making his way out of the supermarket with Aziraphale following closely behind. They made their way in silence towards the park and took a bench. Neither one said anything for a few minutes.

"How are you?" Crowley finally asked quietly.

Aziraphale let out a sigh. "It's been a year. How do you think I am?" There was no resentment or anger in the question, just general interest.

"If your anything like me, then crap."

"That pretty much sums it up." They were quiet again for a few moments.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't."

"Zira, I mean it. If I could change one thing it would be this."

"Crowley, please just don't," he said quietly trying to keep his voice level. He remembered everything that happened on the day that Crowley moved away. Crowley's father had caught Crowley and him saying their goodbyes and had gotten really mad, shouting that when they moved Crowley was not allowed to contact 'this faggot' ever again. His last memory of him was Crowley shouting at his father, clutching onto his hand like he would never let go. But he did let go. He left for America and Aziraphale had never heard from him again. Until today when all of that grief was flung back at him.

"Zira please, I still care about you," said Crowley gently laying a hand on top of Aziraphale's.

"You left me," Aziraphale whispered trying to fight back his tears.

"Hey, I'm here now I'm not going anywhere anytime soon," he said giving his hand a squeeze. Aziraphale ducked his head and let out a huff of laughter before looking up into the sky and blinking away the saline moisture.

"Yeah, I guess you're right, I'm just being stupid. But, it's not going to be the same as before is it?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you've probably moved on by now. I'll just be holding you back."

"Zira, if it's not you, it's no one."

Aziraphale sniffed and looked Crowley in the eye, his eyebrows raised as though he had misheard. "What?"

"I loved you then and I still love you now. It's always been you Zira." Crowley was a little surprised at how loving his voice sounded but if it was the cause of Aziraphale's newly acquired smile then he thought it was definitely worth it.

"So, that wasn't your boyfriend back in the supermarket?" Crowley couldn't help it and he laughed. "What?" asked Aziraphale, eyebrows knotted in confusion.

"You thought that Dean and I… _Dean_?"

"Well, it wasn't a completely crazy assumption," Aziraphale said defensively. He turned and caught Crowley's eye and they both collapsed into a fit of giggles. Though when pressed on the subject Crowley would deny any accusation of giggling and suggest an alternate location for your nose.

"I've missed you," Crowley stated.

"Me too. It's weird isn't it?"

"What is?"

"That I found you. That I just happened to move here of all places."

"Hmm, sounds like fate or destiny."

"You know I don't believe in either."

"Oh yes, you're convinced that there is a greater plan for all of us."

"And this is just proof for my theory."

"Well this is damning evidence," Crowley smirked. He glanced down at their hands and entwined their fingers. Looking up he saw that Aziraphale was looking down at their linked hands with a fond expression and he gave Crowley's hand a soft squeeze. Crowley smiled as he lost himself in Aziraphale's pale blue eyes like he had done many times before. He let out a huff of laughter as a thought passed through his mind.

"What is it?" asked Aziraphale.

"Nothing, just… we don't really look like a couple do we?" Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. "I mean we look like complete polar opposites," he said gesturing between the two of them. Aziraphale looked at their attire and they did indeed look like 'polar opposites'. His fair hair, pale shirt and light skinny jeans were a stark contrast to Crowley's raven hair and black shirt, jeans and hoodie combo.

"Well you know what they say, opposites attract."

"And that has to be the most cheesiest thing that you've ever said."

"That's why you love me," Aziraphale teased nudging Crowley with his shoulder.

"That and a million other amazing things."

"Now _that_ was cheesy," Aziraphale smirked.

"I forgot how easy this was, just us talking about nothing. I've not met anyone else that I can do this with."

"I'm the same. I was really lonely when you… when you left."

"Hey, don't think about it, it's in the past. Think about the future, our future." Aziraphale's smile was blinding and he slowly leaned forward. Crowley knew what he was doing but he placed his unoccupied hand on Aziraphale's shoulder to stop him. "Not now," he said before Aziraphale had a chance. "Sam might still be spying on us."

"Sam? Who's Sam?"

"Just a lackey who, if he values his live, should be going very far away very quickly," Crowley growled as if by some force of nature that Sam could hear his thoughts.

"Now dear, don't tell me your embarrassed by your friends seeing you with me," Aziraphale said sweetly.

"Did you call me 'dear'? Do I look like I fit the 'dear' description?"

"Yes and yes. I think I'll call you dear more often, it's quite becoming on you," smirked Aziraphale. Crowley gave him a withering look but secretly he could get used to the fond endearment.

They continued to talk for some time after, their hands staying linked between them the entire time. Before Crowley had to go he gave Aziraphale his cell number and he made the two of them promise to at least text the other once a day. No way were they going to loose contact this time, this time they will always have a lifeline.

"So, I got a text an hour ago from Zira asking if we could meet up here and here I am, albeit a little late and now out of breath," Crowley concluded, muttering the last part under his breath.

"Aw, that's such a sweet story," cooed Anna who looked like she was on the verge of tears.

"Just ignore her," said Lucifer, "she's just over emotional, time of the month and all."

"What?" shouted Anna, "How dare you assume that just when a woman gets a little teary at a lovely story it's because she must be-"

"Alright! Alright, I stand corrected," he yelled, raising his hands in defeat.

"So, you saw me huh?" asked Sam carefully avoiding Crowley's gaze.

"Yeah, I don't know what you and short-stack over there were doing but if you even think about spying on me again your intestines are going to end up on a stick."

"Now dear, that's a little harsh," chided Aziraphale under his breath so only Crowley could hear. Crowley's threatening demeanour softened marginally in response.

"What?" piped up Dean giving Sam an odd look, "You were spying on Crowley? Dude, that's creepy."

"I wasn't spying on anyone," Sam protested.

"Then what were you doing in the park with the midget?"

"He's not a midget and we were… um, well-"

"We were on a date, weren't we Sammy?" supplied Gabriel, rather unhelpfully in Sam's opinion.

"Eh…" Sam saw Gabriel give him a subtle wink and then he got it. Believe it or not Sam was more scared of Dean than Crowley so he couldn't imagine what verbal abuse he would get from his brother if he told him that they were in fact spying on him. "Yeah, a date. That's what we were doing there," said Sam with a nervous smile. Dean was now looking at Sam with confusion etched across his features.

"Hold on, you never told us that you got a date with the jail-bait," observed Anna giving Gabriel a scrutinising glance.

"Jail-bait?" muttered Sam to himself, "I'm seventeen!"

"Can't a guy have some secrets?" asked Gabriel feigning innocence as he leaned on Sam's arm. Sam was about to automatically move away but then remembered that he had to keep it convincing.

"Sam," said Dean, "When did this…" he trailed off gesturing to the two of them.

"Oh we've been flirting for months," replied Gabriel, "then Sammy finally asked me out on Saturday, took him long enough," he said giving Sam a playful shove. Sam gave another nervous laugh and shoved Gabriel back. Flirting? Is that what they've really been doing all this time? With these thoughts filling Sam's mind he almost missed what Balthazar said.

"I don't want to be the rain to this parade but we've only got this room for another 15 minutes."

"Crap, is that the time already?" asked Anna reaching over and grabbing Balthazar's wrist to get a better look at his watch.

"We've got plenty of time for one more dance," said Gabriel with a dismissive wave before hauling himself off of the floor. "Come on Sammy, you know how to play Adele right?" he asked holding out a hand for Sam. He took it gingerly and was surprised at how strong Gabriel was when he was pulled up from the ground.

Balthazar, Anna, Lucifer and Cas joined Gabriel on the dance floor as Sam tested out the piano. Aziraphale and Crowley took a seat by the door next to Dean. "Wait, are you not dancing with them?" he asked Aziraphale.

"Who, me? Oh no, I was born with two left feet."

"But graced with the voice of an angel," added Crowley.

"That's the reason I moved here actually," he said with a smile at Crowley's compliment, "America has the best musical colleges and my mother thought, what with Balthazar already being here, that he'd be able to put me up until I found a more permanent arrangement."

"Hey, guitar guy, we're all set up over here, wanna give us a backbeat?" called Anna.

"What are we playing?" he asked adjusting his guitar.

"Adele's epic, 'Set fire to the rain'," she replied.

"Oh, alright. It's not her best though."

"Blaspheme!" she and Gabriel shouted simultaneously, pointing at him with scandalised expressions. Aziraphale snickered beside him.

"Don't press it further," he advised, "you don't want to get into a music war with those two."

"Anyway, lets get this show on the road, time's ticking," said Gabriel, "Hit it Sammy!"

Sam obediently started with the piano and Dean gave the song its backbeat as the other five took their positions. "Hey Zira," whispered Crowley, "you should sing this."

"No, it would be rude. I don't want to steal their thunder."

"Please, I haven't heard you sing in over a year," Crowley implored trying not to sound desperate. Aziraphale smiled and nodded and waited for the piano's queue.

"I let it fall, my heart, and as it fell you rose to claim it," he sang with his eyes downcast. His voice was beautiful and pitch perfect like, as Crowley had described affectionately, an angel. He continued to sing as the others danced and flowed with the song.

It was well choreographed the dance. The turns and leaps were expertly timed and slotted perfectly into all the right places. Dean's eyes never strayed from Castiel as he watched him do what he loved. He saw that same smile he saw the first day he saw Cas dance and he almost forgot to play.

When it got to the chorus, that's when the dance really exploded into life. Anna was lifted up into the air and the others leapt and turned around her. It was filled with bold movements and some seductive swaying from Anna. After the chorus ended they all stopped and gave each other a pat on the back.

"Woo! That was great guys, really great," cheered Gabriel as he quickly skipped over to Sam, "That will do Sammy dearest, haven't choreographed that far yet."

"That was amazing," said Dean as they returned back to the seats.

"Thanks, still have some work to do on it though," said Anna.

"Well, that's us," said Balthazar looking up from his watch.

"Aw, already?" whined Gabriel.

"Yes. See you guys around sometime," he called as he left the room, closely followed by Lucifer, Anna, Aziraphale and Crowley.

"Hey Cas," called Dean before he could leave.

"Yes Dean?"

"I, um… well I was wondering if, maybe, um…"

"Yes?"

Dean took a breath. "Do you want to go and see a movie or something? I mean if you don't want to we could do something else, or if you-"

"I'd love to go and see a movie with you Dean," said Cas with an amused smile, cutting off Dean's ramblings.

"Really? I mean, great."

"Here," said Cas whipping out a sharpie and lightly taking hold of Dean's wrist, "give me a call when you have a free night, we can see something then, ok?" Dean looked down to find Castiel's cell number carefully written on the back of his hand. He unconsciously smiled down at it before looking back up at Cas who was smiling shyly.

"Sounds like a plan," he said, "I'll see you later then."

"See you later Dean," said Cas quietly. He turned to leave but after taking a step he stopped and turned around again. He took two steps forward, placed a feather light kiss on Dean's cheek and left. Dean was glad that Sam was on the other side of the room so that he couldn't see the blush that had crept up his neck and was now making his cheeks glow. He cleared his throat and packed up his guitar, the feel of Cas' lips still lingering on his skin.

"Looks like we did it Sammy," whispered Gabriel from his perch on the floor leaning on the piano.

"Yeah," he replied distantly, his mind on other matters. "Gabe, do you like me?"

"What? No, of course not," he said.

"You're a terrible liar."

Gabriel sighed. "Yes, I like you. Have liked you for some time Sam. I didn't want you to know in case you didn't want to be around me anymore."

"What? You think I'm that much of a homophobe?"

"No, you're a good guy Sam." Sam was a little thrown by Gabriel's honesty but he ploughed on.

"So why did you tell everyone that we were dating?"

"I don't know. I guess I kinda wanted it to be true. And yes, I know how lame that sounds." Gabriel sighed again.

"We could… date I mean. If you want, just to see what happens." Gabriel looked at him as though he'd just spoken in mandarin.

"Really? You'd do that?"

"For you, yeah. And also I'm curious as well, could be fun, you know?" Sam shrugged with a smirk.

Gabriel smirked back and rested his head on Sam's shoulder. "So what's it gonna be, a dinner and a movie type deal?"

"Hell yes. If we're doing this we're doing it right. Dinner, movie, walks in the park, going out for coffee, the whole cliché."

"So, if we're doing this by the book, does that mean that I can't do this?" as he said that Gabriel tilted his head upwards and captured Sam's lips in an innocently chaste kiss.

"No, that-that's fine," breathed Sam after he got his train of thought back on the rails.

"Good," said Gabriel smiling up at him. "Now I really gotta go, I'll catch you later Sammy," said Gabriel jumping up onto his feet. He placed a quick kiss in Sam's mop of hair and left.

The Winchester brothers made their way home in silence, each thinking about the angels that they now have in their lives.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean was nervous. Dean was _never_ nervous so that fact freaked him out even more. He was currently making his way to Castiel's place to pick him up for their date. Date, the word making the Winchester even more anxious than he already was. He wasn't worried that said date was with a guy; Dean wasn't homophobic and Cas was an amazing person. That's what worried him though. Cas was just so perfect that Dean though that if he messed this up… the idea didn't bear thinking about.

He was now outside the bakery. He glanced at his watch. He was a little early but he went around the back and up the stairs anyway. He raised his hand to knock on the door, thought better of it and raked it through his hair instead. He looked down at himself assessing his appearance. The stain on his favourite AC/DC shirt was barely noticeable and his plaid shirt covered most of it anyways so he assumed he was in the clear. Their was a small rip on the right knee of his jeans and his sneakers were so worn out they were practically talking. What was I thinking, he berated himself, I look homeless.

He took a breath, raised his hand once more and firmly knocked on the door and took a step back. It was Gabriel who answered. "Hey Dean-o," he said, a challenging smirk tugging at his mouth.

"Hey Gabriel, is Cas ready?" Dean asked, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"Maybe," said Gabriel leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms across his chest. There was a short moment of slightly awkward silence before Gabriel spoke again. "So, what are your intentions with my little brother?"

"Um, well I-" Dean fumbled, completely unprepared for the question. Gabriel smirked at his awkward mumblings. He was saved however by Cas.

"That's enough Gabriel, how would you like it if I interrogated Sam when he comes by?"

"I'd say game on little bro!" smiled Gabriel, clapping a hand on Cas' shoulder and gently pushing him out of the door. "Now you behave you two," he said, his voice dripping with sarcastic motherly concern, "don't get up to anything I wouldn't do," he said with a wink before closing the door.

"Sorry about him," said Cas as they descended the stairs.

"Nah, it's ok. I'd have done the same thing if he'd shown up at our house looking for Sammy," Dean admitted. They walked in comfortable silence for a few moments.

"Are you alright Dean?" asked Cas. Dean looked at him and found his eyebrows knotted together in concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just um…"

"Yes?"

"Nah, it's stupid, it's nothing," said Dean waving it off.

"When it comes to you, nothing is stupid," Cas stated.

Dean sighed. "I'm kinda nervous, you know, first date and all. I just think that if this doesn't go well then… you won't want to go out with me again."

"That's not stupid. It's normal to be anxious. To tell the truth I'm actually quite nervous too. But Dean," he paused and waited for Dean to face him, "if you think that I'm never going to see you again after one bad date then you _are_ stupid." He smiled up at him and Dean could not help but smile back.

"Hey, I thought you said I wasn't stupid," Dean said, with a mock scandalised expression. Cas laughed.

They continued walking and talking, deciding to cut across the park as a short cut. As they walked Dean could have sworn that he heard some rustling coming from the bushes but the thought was only fleeting. When the rustling started to sound like it was following them, he rounded on the shrubbery and gave it a sharp kick. The greenery shrieked.

"Hey! What was that for man?" asked the foliage. It stood up, the face of Ash emerging from the leaves.

"Why are you following us?" asked Dean ignoring Ash's question. "Why are you hiding in the bushes and why, for the love of God, are you dressed like a ninja? Wait, forget it," said Dean abruptly, cutting off Ash before he had a chance to utter an excuse, "I don't want to know."

"Um, Dean, is he your friend?" asked Cas cautiously. Dean had only now realised that Cas had taken cover behind him and gave a huff of laughter as he stepped aside to ensure Cas that the coast was clear.

"Yeah, Cas this is my brain-dead buddy Ash, Ash this is Cas."

"Hey bro!" said Ash amiably, tripping over himself as he extracted his limbs from the bushes.

"Seriously man, what the hell?" said Dean, gesturing at his get-up after he had plucked the last leaf from his hair.

"You know how I was taken a prisoner in my own home? Well, I escaped," said Ash, a tad too proudly.

"It took you five days to escape your own house?"

"Yup. Wanna hear how I did it?"

"Did it, by any chance, involve the tree that, conveniently enough, grows right outside your bedroom window?" asked Dean exasperatedly. Ash took a minute to think about what Dean had said before nodding his head triumphantly. "And the ninja costume?"

"So that no one could see me escaping, duh."

"In the middle of the day," said Dean, raising an eyebrow at Ash's charcoal turtleneck. Ash thought about it again and the realisation finally hit him.

"Oh. My bad."

"You got that right," Dean muttered. "So why are you stalking us?"

"I need a place to lie low dude, the old woman will be looking for me. She has spies everywhere!" As he said this in a stage whisper, he started to glance nervously around the park in a manner eerily reminiscent to a meerkat.

"Alright, just calm down. You can stay at Bobby's, tell him Dean sent you. Think you can remember that?"

"What do you think I am, an idiot?" asked Ash. Dean didn't think that answering was either necessary or productive. "Thanks bro!" he called, as he turned round, just managing to dodge the bush he had previously been occupying, and 'stealthily' made his way to Bobby's house.

"Sorry about him," Dean apologised as they began to walk again, "he's just… Ash," he finished, unable to describe his friend in words.

"It's ok. I thought he was quite funny, you know, after I found out he wasn't a murderer or a rapist hiding in the bushes."

"Ash couldn't hurt a fly, probably because the fly would out-smart him." Cas chuckled. "And don't worry, if it was a murderer I'd of protected you," he said with an honest smile. Cas looked up and smiled back, a slight blush tinting his cheeks. His smile then slowly changed into a teasing smirk.

"I don't need protecting, I can take care of myself you know."

"Oh, I see," said Dean, rising to the challenge, "so when you were cowering behind me, that was you getting ready to attack, was it?"

"I was not cowering, and I was as a matter of fact. I was just… making sure I had the element of surprise." Dean gave a bark of laughter.

"I'm sure a murderer would be surprised if a small guy like you jumped out at them." Cas was only a few inches shorter than Dean but he was also slimmer. Dean's shoulders were so broad he had to walk sideways just to get through the door.

"I might be small, but I'm strong," said Cas a-matter-of-factly.

"Oh really?" said Dean, not buying it.

"Of course. You have to be strong if you do ballet." Dean raised an eyebrow prompting Cas to elaborate. "Male dancers have to lift the female dancers, that in itself requires a lot of upper body strength. The jumps and turns need strong legs to achieve their height and momentum and do you think we dance on the tips of our toes by magic? That requires both strength in our core muscles and in our legs. I also punched a guy in the face so I think I'm quite strong, don't you?"

Dean's mouth hung slightly agape as he absorbed this new information. He quickly shut it when he saw Cas' head tilt in confusion. Dean then raised a challenging eyebrow. "Is that so? Well, prove it."

"Are you sure?" Cas didn't wait for an answer and quickly rounded on Dean, took a firm hold of his waist and lifted him up almost over his head. Dean flailed and grabbed onto Cas' shoulders as he spun him around a few times before carefully returning him to earth. "Are you alright?" Cas giggled as he saw the look on Dean's face.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I can honestly say I did not expect _that_," he said easing his hands off of Cas' shoulders.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" Cas was cut off as Dean decided to haul him over his shoulder and spin him around. "Ok, ok! Put me down, put me down!" Cas laughed as Dean began to spin faster. Dean placed him back down and laughed as Cas stumbled over his feet in a dizzy attempt to stay upright. "Point made," Cas said, still giggling from being spun around.

"Think you'll be able to walk?" Dean teased.

"Yes, thank you," Cas smiled. Dean didn't like taking chances so he decided to wrap his arm around the shorter boy's shoulder as they made their way to the cinema, playfully bickering amongst themselves about who gave off the girliest squeal.

Crowley was frustrated. He was almost always mad at something, or someone. Right now he was in the middle of a rare experience; he was angry with himself. He had been texting Aziraphale all morning (well, whatever period of time that counts for a morning when you wake up at 12am) without any answers. A few hours later he had decided to get up off his ass and made his way to the flat above the bakery. He took the stairs two at a time and rapped impatiently at the door. It was Gabriel who answered.

"Oh hello. Crawford was it?"

"Crowley," Crowley gritted out. "Is Zira there?"

"Nope, he went out hours ago."

"Well, do you know where he went?" said Crowley, growing more impatient.

"Nope," said Gabriel, popping the 'p'. Crowley sighed and was about to turn and leave when Gabriel continued. "But, Balthazar does. Hey Balty! There's a Crowell here for ya!" he yelled into the flat.

"It's Crowley!" Crowley shouted. But Gabriel had already retreated into the flat. A moment later a tall Brit stood in the doorway.

"Yes," he said in the bored tones of a person who has put up with someone for so long that the someone's idiosyncrasies become second nature to endure.

"Do you know where Zira is?"

"He went to the library in town last time I checked."

"Thanks," said Crowley turning to leave.

"Hold on a sec," said Balthazar. Crowley turned back around. "Are you serious?"

"Pardon?" said Crowley, not getting Balthazar's question.

"About Aziraphale I mean. Are you serious about him?"

"Of course I am," he said almost instantaneously. It had always been Aziraphale, he'd known the moment he saw him. Balthazar seemed happy with Crowley's answer, gave a terse nod and returned into the flat.

Crowley descended the stairs and started to walk towards the library. Why didn't he think of the library before? Aziraphale loved books, and of course he wasn't going to get a reply to his texts if his phone was on silent, which it would undoubtedly be. Crowley sighed and pulled a hand through his hair.

The library was in sight and Crowley was about to cross the street when something in a shop window caught his attention. As he peered in the window he remembered his short conversation with Balthazar. He was deadly serious about Aziraphale and this was the ideal way of showing him just how serious he was. He glanced at his watch and decided that Zira would still be in the library in the next fifteen minutes. He about turned and made his way home to retrieve his guitar. If Dean ever sees what I'm planning to do, he thought, I'll make him a new hat out of his liver.

Thirteen minutes later Crowley was in the library, his guitar slung over his back and his newly purchased items in a small bag hanging from the neck of his guitar. The old librarian behind the desk gave him a scathing look so Crowley decided that asking this woman anything would result in him being asked none too politely to vacate the premises. He decided to look for Zira the old fashioned way.

The library was bigger than Crowley had originally thought. After scouring the bottom floor he proceeded up a flight of stairs to the next floor. The building was pretty empty of human life so when Crowley saw the back of a mop of blonde hair, he knew that was Aziraphale. He silently crept up behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist. Aziraphale gave a startled squeak and almost dropped the book he was reading.

"Hi Zira," whispered Crowley into Aziraphale's ear. Aziraphale relaxed into Crowley's embrace once he heard his voice.

"Hello Crowley dear," Aziraphale whispered back. Aziraphale shifted in Crowley's arms to replace the book to its rightful place and turned around so that they were face to face. Crowley raised an eyebrow.

"You wear glasses?" he asked.

"Only to read. Their new," Aziraphale blushed and reached a hand up to remove them but Crowley stopped him.

"No, you suit them," he said with a small smile. Aziraphale smiled back, his blush deepening.

"Oh no, I forgot to tell you where I was," said Aziraphale, a guilty expression flashing across his features, "I'm so sorry if you -"

"Hey, it's alright. I found you didn't I?"

"Yes, I suppose you did," Aziraphale smiled. His attention diverted to something over Crowley's shoulder. "Is that your guitar?"

Crowley nodded. "I was thinking, this is a nice place and all that, but we can't really talk, unless we want the wrath of that old bitch at the front desk to rain down upon us. What do you say about us going to the park for a spell, eh?"

"Alright then," smiled Aziraphale. Crowley turned to lead them out. "What's in the bag?"

"I should really take those glasses off you, they give you super observational powers," joked Crowley. "Just a few things."

"Anything for little old me?" said Aziraphale giving his best puppy eyes.

"Well, I did get you this," said Crowley reaching into the bag and producing a single red rose wrapped in clear plastic with a red bow at the base holding it all together.

"Oh Crowley," Aziraphale breathed, "it's beautiful." Aziraphale held it tentatively, as if too firm a hold will cause it to disintegrate. All Crowley could think of as he saw Aziraphale smell the flowers fragrance was, it's not a beautiful as you. They held each other's hand as they left the building, leaving behind them a disgruntled librarian in their wake.

They sedately made their way to a secluded area in the park and sat on a bench. Crowley fidgeted with the bag before he decided to place it on the ground in case Aziraphale picked up on it.

"Are you alright Crowley?" Damn.

"Yeah, I'm fine. It's just I want to talk to you about something," he admitted, edging slightly closer to Aziraphale.

"What is it?"

"Well," Crowley took a breath, "it's hard to say in words." As he said this he swung his guitar around and positioned it on his lap.

"It's been a while since you've serenaded me, dear," smiled Aziraphale fondly. Crowley plucked a few strings to check if they were in tune.

"I really mean this, so please, if you could listen," said Crowley. He wasn't good at this romantic thing as he only had corny chick-flicks for a reference on this subject. Aziraphale nodded sincerely and waited for Crowley to start. He began to strum a song that Aziraphale vaguely remembered hearing before.

"I like your smile, I like your vibe, I like your style, but that's not why I love you," he sang. His voice was rich and deep with a kind of emotion that he could only successfully express through his music. "And I, I like the way, you're such a star, but that's not why I love you. Hey, do you feel, do you feel me, do you feel what I feel too? Do you need, do you need me, do you need me?" Aziraphale could sense that Crowley was not just singing the words but actually asking him, and he would of told him that yes he did, but he promised to listen. "You're so beautiful, but that's not why I love you. I'm not sure you know, that the reason I love you, is you being you, just you, yeah the reason I love you is, all that we've been through, and that's why I love you." Crowley finally looked Aziraphale in the eye and found him much closer than he had been before.

"That was beautiful," he whispered, leaning in ever closer, "I love you too." He closed the small gap between them, gently pressing his lips against Crowley's. It was short and sweet and chaste and Crowley wanted it to last forever but he had to get this over with while he still had the confidence. Reluctantly he pulled away and laid his guitar on the grass at their feet and picked up the bag. Aziraphale's eyes widened curiously and was about to ask what it was when Crowley pulled out a small box.

Crowley misinterpreted Aziraphale's expression and quickly backtracked. "No, it's not what it looks like, I'm not- it's not a- well, just… here." He handed the box to Aziraphale who tentatively opened it with a small smile on his lips from Crowley's awkwardness. His smile then faltered slightly as he looked with slight confusion at the object in the box.

"A key?" asked Aziraphale as he lifted the small metal object out of the box now genuinely curious. "What's this for?"

"Well," started Crowley, suddenly getting the impression that this wasn't one of his better ideas, "my apartment. But I'm not asking you to move in with me or anything, it's just so you can come and go as you please," he finished lamely, rubbing the back of his neck and looking at his guitar.

"Would it be so bad if I did?"

"What?" asked Crowley, his head snapping back up.

"Move in with you," said Aziraphale with bashful smile.

"Don't you think it's a bit fast?"

"Well, we do have a lot of time to make up. Also, Gabriel's flat is terribly cramped what with six people having to share a bathroom." Crowley smiled at that.

"Are you sure?"

"With you, always." Then Aziraphale leaned in again and their next kiss was still sweet but much longer. Crowley wove a hand into Aziraphale's curls while Aziraphale tugged him closer by his shirt. They didn't care that they were on the receiving end of some odd looks; they were too enwrapped with each other to take any notice. When they finally pulled apart slightly out of breath Crowley took Aziraphale's hand and they walked through the park in the general direction of Crowley's apartment. And if Crowley happened to notice that Aziraphale had put the key ring on his ring finger, holding the key tightly in his hand, he chose not to mention it.

Sam was excited. He knew deep down that he really shouldn't be this happy about the fact that he was going on a proper date with Gabriel but he couldn't help it. He knew he felt something for the short blonde and now that he knew what it was he was practically giddy as he made his way to the bakery. He couldn't keep the idiotic grin off his face as he bounded up the steps to Gabriel's apartment and rapped on the door.

Gabriel swung the door open. "Sammy!" he squealed like the girl he was, his smile blinding. Sam didn't have time to answer as Gabriel threw himself on Sam, his arms around his neck and his legs wrapped tightly around Sam's waist in a crushing hug.

"Ack! Gabe, kinda need to breath," Sam managed to get out. Gabriel pulled back and pecked Sam quickly on the lips before hopping back down to ground level. Sam was about to speak when he was interrupted again by a disembodied voice from inside the apartment.

"Is that the moose finally here Gabriel?" said a female voice which Sam remembered belonged to the redhead called Anna.

"Hey!" said Sam and Gabriel simultaneously. Sam disliked the nickname and smiled at Gabriel for defending him.

"He's not a moose," called back Gabriel, "he's _my_ moose." Sam sighed. Bang goes that theory. Gabriel turned to Sam and smirked up at him. "And I wouldn't have him any other way." Standing on his tiptoes he placed another kiss on Sam's lips before ushering them both down the stairs. "So Sammy, where are we headed?"

"How does coffee sound?"

"A cliché if ever I heard one," he said with a smirk, remembering their agreement. When they reached the bottom of the steps Gabriel, being a few steps behind Sam, proceeded to jump on Sam's back with a cry of 'Geronimo!' causing Sam to squeak in surprise and right himself before his face met the asphalt.

"Gabriel! What the Hell?" The only answer he got was Gabriel giggling into his neck as his legs wrapped themselves around Sam for the second time. Sam couldn't help letting out a huff of laughter as he grabbed Gabriel's legs to ensure that the smaller boy didn't fall off. "You really are insufferable Gabe."

"You love it," he said directly into Sam's ear causing a shiver to travel down his spine.

"Come on Gabe, I'm a moose not a pack mule." Gabriel laughed at that but obligingly jumped down. Sam slipped his hand into Gabriel's as they walked down the street, listening to Gabriel's rubbish jokes, their shoulders bumping into each other's from time to time.

Suddenly, from seemingly out of nowhere, a figure clad all in black ran across the road and threw himself behind Sam for cover. Gabriel jumped and was about to throw a fist in the direction of their assailant but Sam beat him to the punch, literally. He shoved the boy off him and was about to send him to the sidewalk when he recognised that dopey face.

"Ash?" he half asked half shouted at the cowering teen.

"Not so loud man, she'll hear you," he whispered, glancing around like a frightened bird.

"Who'll hear me?"

"The old woman. I nearly ran into her so I ran across the street."

"And into me."

"I didn't know it was you at the time." Sam sighed. That's when he noticed Ash's clothing.

"Why the dark clothes?"

"Ninja," he stated like it was the most normal thing in the world to dress up and hide behind strangers in an attempt to escape your mother.

"You kinda forgot the headgear dude," noted Gabriel.

Ash looked about himself, placed a hand on his head and then looked around at the ground. "Crap, I must have dropped it in the park," he said after he had completed his search.

"Why were you in the park?" asked Sam.

"Funny, Dean asked me the same thing." Sam opened his mouth but didn't get the chance to get a word in. "Damn, here she comes. I've got to split, see ya guys," he said before running back up the street, stopping to hide very ineffectively behind every lamppost. Sam just shook his head at him and turned his attention back to Gabriel who was grinning at the retreating form of Ash.

"I really don't know why I am friends with him," he said with an amused smirk.

"Can we introduce him to my friends? That meeting will be all kinds of awesome."

"I don't think that will be a good idea. You have to take Ash in small doses until you've built up an immunity to his idiosyncrasies." Gabriel laughed and took Sam's hand again and continued walking. It wasn't long until they finally reached a small coffee shop and took a seat by the window.

"What do you want?" asked Sam as he shucked off his jacket.

"It's ok, I'll get it."

"No you wont," said Sam with a smile. "My treat."

"Why Sammy, I never knew that you were such a gentleman."

"You're paying next time." Gabriel smiled at that implication of a 'next time' then his smile turned back into his customary smirk.

"Well, in that case, just a latte for me." Sam nodded and went away to retrieve their beverages.

Gabriel, being the sort of person that couldn't sit still for longer than two minutes, decided to root around Sam's jacket pockets. Some loose change, a used tissue – lovely – and… bingo! Gabriel fished out Sam's cell phone and flicked through it, careful to not let his curiosity drift towards his messages. Didn't want Sam getting mad at him now did he? So he decided to stay safe and scroll down his music list.

"Here you go," said Sam, placing Gabriel's drink in front of him. He sat down opposite him and he raised an eyebrow at the object in his hands. "Is that my cell?"

"You've got good taste in music," said Gabriel before taking a sip of his coffee.

"Hand it over," said Sam holding his hand out. "You better not have gone through anything private."

"I've not gone through your messages don't worry." Gabriel took another sip of his drink, still holding onto the phone.

"Please Gabe," Sam asked again.

Gabriel hummed, clicking a few buttons on the cell. "Why? Do you have anything worth hiding?" he said waggling his eyebrows.

"No I don't, so can you please give it back now?" Gabriel tapped a few more of the keys before sighing dramatically and handing back the phone. "Thank you."

"No dirty pictures, such a pity," mumbled Gabriel into his mug as he took another gulp.

"What did you do?" asked Sam, eyeing his phone with caution as if it might detonate on him.

"Hmm?"

"Gabe."

"Nothing, honest."

"Your skills at lying still haven't improved."

"Well…" Gabriel trailed off pulling it out his own cell and hitting a few buttons. Sam's eyebrows were knitted in confusion until music started emanating from his phone, then they shot up to meet his hairline when he heard what song was playing.

_"My lips like sugar, my lips like sugar,_

_This candy got you sprung, this candy got you sprung,_

_So call me your sugar, so call me your sugar,_

_Love you some, love you some…"_

Sam frantically reached for his cell to hang up, earning a few odd looks from the other coffee shop goers. "How did you change your ring tone on my phone? I don't even have that song!"

"That would be telling." Gabriel had been trying to suppress a laugh all through Sam's flailing and couldn't hold it back anymore. "But the look on your face!" While Gabriel was distracted with laughing Sam swiftly grabbed his phone from the other side of the table. "Hey!"

"I think a little revenge is in order," said Sam tapping away quickly at the keys. When he was done he gave the phone back and smirked at Gabriel as he tried to figure out what Sam had done.

"Ok, what have you changed it to?"

"That would be telling," quoted Sam, grinning inanely.

Gabriel raised a challenging eyebrow. "Call me then."

"I dunno, isn't that kind of desperate? Calling you so soon after calling me?"

"Sammy."

"Gabby."

"Please."

"Now that is desperate, begging like that," joked Sam as he flipped open his phone. Gabriel just raised his eyebrow and smirked as he waited for Sam to dial. Sam heaved a sigh, trying to be as dramatic as Gabriel was and failing, and tapped a few more keys. His phone vibrated in his hand and Gabriel waited for the song to play.

_"I'm looking at an angel,_

_And believe me when I say,_

_She got that whole place glowing,_

_She got that whole place glowing,_

_She got that whole place glowing, glowing, glowing…"_

Gabriel hung up and smiled at Sam. "That's really sweet," he said bashfully.

"It's true though. You light up the room," said Sam resting his hand over Gabriel's on the table. Gabriel looked down at their hands before he leaned over the table to give Sam a peck on his lips. Before he could pull back Sam's other hand had made its way to the back of his neck and pulled him in for a deep kiss. They pulled away, ignoring a few pointed stares and continued talking and drinking their coffees. Both Gabriel and Sam made a mental note to keep their cells on silent when they were at home.

"Well, that's the last time you get to choose the film," joked Dean as they walked back to the apartment.

"What, it wasn't that bad."

"A chick-flick is by definition bad."

"You didn't seem to mind it that much," said Cas raising a knowing eyebrow.

"That's because I had a gorgeous distraction," said Dean giving Cas a kiss on the cheek.

Cas hummed in acknowledgement. "Yes, the male lead was quite stunning don't you think?" Cas laughed aloud at Dean's shocked expression. "I'm kidding. It's obvious that his friend was the sexy one."

"Cas!" Cas laughed louder and Dean couldn't suppress his smirk.

They continued to talk about the film and how bad it was until they reached the bakery. They made their way around the back and up the stairs. "Thank you Dean," said Cas leaning on the closed door of the apartment, "tonight was the best I've had in a long time."

"Right back at ya." Dean searched for something else to say but his train of thought was thoroughly derailed when Cas tentatively took a step forward and pressed his lips gently against his own. That's when Dean realised that there was nothing he could say that spoke louder than actions, which, as he was currently experiencing, spoke volumes. They both reluctantly pulled away from each other and Cas smiled up at Dean who was smiling back.

"Goodnight Dean," said Cas opening the door.

"Yeah, night, and Cas?"

"Yes Dean?"

"Love you."

Cas smiled and quickly placed another kiss on Dean's lips.

"I love you too."

**~*~ Fin** **~*~**


End file.
